


The Neon Haze Just Don't Shine Like You

by HandsAcrossTheSea



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - no cybernetics, Bottom Kerry, Established Relationship, Husbands, Kerry Eurodyne said BOTTOM RIGHTS, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Top V
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:00:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28997127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HandsAcrossTheSea/pseuds/HandsAcrossTheSea
Summary: Missing someone hurts worse than anything else in the world.
Relationships: Kerry Eurodyne/Male V
Comments: 10
Kudos: 154





	The Neon Haze Just Don't Shine Like You

**Author's Note:**

> Before I get, I dunno, lambasted for poor characterization - I feel like character development is pretty much fucking open here, so I twigged it to round out their personalities a touch more. I played through their story arc and within .4 seconds of that first kiss these two moved into my mind rent free. So here we are. I set them in an every day world because I was too lazy to worry about cybernetics and we're all just gonna be okay with that. But the sex these two have, fucking WOOF. I love to think about it.
> 
> If those of you who read this want more, please let me know. This is the first thing I've been excited about writing in months now, and maybe I can keep it rolling if there's enough interest.

Lube stains are something that Kerry almost always expects to be billed for - this time isn’t going to be any different. Not  _ technically  _ his fault, but in his own bed, he doesn’t care. And with as worked up as he is, it’s easy enough to imagine he’s there. He’s still pumped full of adrenaline, energy, high off his own stage sweat. Just fucking sucks that it’s  _ all  _ he’s full of. Well, shortly it’ll be his favorite dildo. The last time he toured, he left it at home, and it was his first tour as not only a married man, but a  _ happily  _ married one at that. And Kerry, well, he’s not going to fuck that up. First truly good thing that’s happened in God knows how long, and it’s not worth ruining over a warm body just because he’s lonely. 

Not like anyone really compares to his husband anyway. No one  _ gets  _ him like V does, and certainly no one  _ fucks  _ like him. Kerry’s gotten his imitation down with the dildo down pretty well, but his own hand, however practiced, doesn’t have the same power behind it as his husband’s hips. Never will. Still, he’s got to knock  _ something  _ out of him before he tries to sleep, full of missing a someone and a heavy, aching heart in a penthouse suite in a hotel that just isn’t quite like home. Not that home is… well, it’s just where V is. But V is all over the world, fixing its wrongs, and checking it at the door because Kerry doesn’t need to know unless V wants - or can - tell him. More than that, he doesn’t want to have cameras shoved in his face when V’s job comes ironclad with anonymity. And being married to him, one of the most recognizable faces in music, well… it’s a workaround. But V loves him, and Kerry won’t do anything to jeopardize that. The last few times that V has come home, though, he’s stayed longer, been more reluctant to leave, and then come back sooner. 

Fixing, as he broadly puts it, Kerry can see it taking its toll on his man. Hell, touring is the same for him, but that’s old hat for his line of work. He likes it, puts him in the face of his public. He thrives on that shit, and what does V have? Kerry knows he gets at least a sense of justice from it. So there’s that. He thinks about the hungry look V comes home with, hunger for  _ him,  _ and slides the dildo finally home, as far as the thing will go. It’s top-grade material, flesh like, warm - even has the circumcision scar like V does. It’s modeled on him, and it’s easy enough to get the fantasy right. His go to, V fucking him in the backstage of one of his shows, growling all the dirtiest shit in his ear about  _ how much he likes it up the ass, right in his tight little hole, how he sings so fucking pretty for him when he fucks him -  _ rough or soft, he gives it to Kerry how he wants.

They’re still working on how  _ V  _ wants it. God, Kerry has had what he wants from sex worked out since he was old enough to realize he liked taking it up the ass, but V? When you give so much of yourself to writing the world’s wrongs, maybe it’s easy to get lost in what  _ you  _ desire. Kerry just wants to give that to him, every time. Christ he misses him, misses his roughness, his tender hands, his smirk when he takes his jabs at Kerry’s ego. His scruff, his blue-tinged hair, his smooth body next to his. Kerry spreads his legs wider, digs his heels into the mattress, punching the air like V’s hands have lifted him clear off the mattress and has him suspended mid-air, driving into him like it’s the only thing he has to live for. 

Right as the slide of the dildo is getting silky fucking smooth, the phone on the bedside table rings - its loud trill makes Kerry curse and drop the dildo, and his lube-covered fingers don’t exactly help him in picking it up. “Yeah?” he says, gruff.

“Mr. Eurodyne, you have a visitor.” The woman on the other end of the phone, she sounds… surprised? The place is known for its discretion, and Kerry doesn’t have to tell them that if he’s in, then he wants to be alone - unless he’s got a special guest. “He says he knows you aren’t expecting him but-”

“What’s his name?” If it’s a rep from the label, he doesn’t have time. They can do post-concert breakdown tomorrow morning. Not like he’s going to forget the event, especially since he’s… cut back on the things that make him forget. 

“Vince, Mr. Eurodyne. Do you want to-”

“Yes, yeah, just… send him up. Please.” V. God,  _ V.  _ Here. He checks his cell to see if there was  _ any  _ sort of message from him to indicate he was coming, there’s not, so he gets up off the bed, leaves the dildo where it is, and pulls on his shorts. His necklace beats against his smooth chest as he bounds out of the bedroom to the living area. The hotel is great about no paparazzi up here, but he’s still not gonna answer the door naked. He wipes his lube-sticky fingers on the legs of his shorts and licks his lips, confusion and happiness buzzing in his skull. Not like it’s unexpected - V doesn’t always know when he’ll get to come home, either.

It’s just as well that Kerry tries to always let him know where he is anyway, on the off chance that V  _ can  _ join him - and it’s paid off for the first time ever. Seattle isn’t  _ far  _ from Cali, but it’s enough. He waits for the knock at the door, and before the third one is finished, Kerry is pulling his husband inside and wrapping his arms around him so tightly that V gasps. “ _ Fucker,”  _ Kerry says, his knees shaking with relief, elation, all that shit that makes his serotonin skyrocket better than anything else he can put in his body.

“Hey to you too,” V says, burying his face in his neck. “I fucking missed you.” Simple, direct, and Kerry hugs him more tightly, V lifts him up and Kerry’s legs go around his waist. Backs him against a wall, moves his mouth away from his neck, and noses for a kiss, a hungry, deep one that cuts through weeks and weeks of missing him so goddamn badly. V’s tongue winds its way into his mouth, and Kerry sucks  _ hard,  _ his dick goes right fucking back to full mast. “You smell… like lube.” Another kiss, making V rut his hips against Kerry’s body. “And sweat, too. Sorry I missed your show, but my flight was-”

“It’s fine, V, it’s…” God, he doesn’t care about any of that right now, so he kisses him so hard that it makes his lips hurt, V slows him down after about ten seconds, and lets his feet touch the ground again. Kerry has to try to make time stop, just so this moment can last a little longer. V’s hard in his leather pants - which he now realizes belong to  _ him -  _ so he cups his erection, rubs and makes V growl against his lips. “You know, I’m already stretched out, that’s why I’m uh, sticky.”

“Missed me that much, huh?” V hauls him over to the couch, putting him down on his back. Crawls up his body, and the scent of the road, motorcycle exhaust and a splash of the cologne Kerry bought him months ago hits him. He runs his fingers through V’s long-on-top hair, the sides shaggier than normal but somehow, still so, so soft. “Glad you did, sweetheart.” Another chest-rumbling kiss, slower, sweeter this time. Their hips drag, all friction and not enough skin on skin. V strips off his jacket, his shirt, leaving himself naked from the waist up for Kerry to get his hands all over. V’s wedding ring hangs around his neck, and it rests against Kerry’s chest as he pulls him closer. His hands roam down to V’s ass, tugging at his body. “Tell me what you want, Ker, anything, and it’s yours.”

“You,” Kerry rasps, emphasizing with a squeeze to his hips. “Nuts fucking deep inside me, and then I want to suck your cock off until my jaw breaks.” He’s crazy with want, insane even. “Want to remember it, like always.” It’s never  _ not  _ memorable, but he wants to be able to replay the memories in those long hours when he’s alone with nothing  _ but  _ a mental image. V dips his head to his, forehead to forehead, breathes a quiet  _ yeah, Ker, I can do that -  _ it’s enough. For now, it’s enough. V pulls back and stands just long enough to get those ridiculously tight - on him - pants off and free his cock, removes Kerry’s shorts and takes some of the lube dripping from his hole to slick himself up. Sure, Johnny had an, as he said himself,  _ impressive  _ cock - but V isn’t lacking either, and besides, V isn’t even  _ remotely  _ the narcissistic asshole that Johnny fucking Silverhand was. Thank fucking God for it, too. 

And besides - Johnny never let Kerry take him for a ride, anyway. Always was nice to get back at him by fucking in the passenger seat of his Porsche and leave the stains behind, though. Kerry spreads his legs and hangs on to V’s shoulders as he guides himself home, raw, tongues meeting again as the wide head of V’s cock pushes into him in a hot, burning motion - just means he’ll be good and ready for round two. It isn't the thickness that intimidates him, not when it's fucking perfect - it's the force behind it.

"Fuck  _ me,"  _ Kerry says - it feels like V is already up in his fucking guts. V grins, capturing his mouth in this savage bite that rips through Kerry with breathtaking motion.  _ Gonna,  _ V promises. Starts to move to a beat only he can hear, putting Kerry's legs up on his shoulders. Face to face like this, bent in half at V's pleasure, it's already the best thing to happen in a good while. He rocks into it, keeps clawing at V's back and shoulders, lets V marks him up just the same with his mouth and teeth. His man is badly hungry for it today, in ways that Kerry feels down to his bones.

Right as Kerry's prostate is at its breaking point, V pulls out and turns him over onto his stomach. "Fuck,  _ yes" -  _ V shoves right back in, pounds him hard and fast, making up for lost time, his right arm wrapped around Kerry's middle while his left jerks off his hard -  _ achingly  _ hard - cock. He's not going to last, not with V fucking  _ breeding  _ him like this. Once, just once, they used protection - Kerry would much rather feel  all  of what V has to give him. V growls, bites the nape of his neck,  _ come on, Ker, come for me  _ \- and he does, messy, loudly, biting one of the thousand dollar pillows and leaving a hell of a mess of come all over the cushions.

" _ Shitshitshit" -  _ V comes deep in him, hard enough that Kerry feels every pulse of his dick, and his teeth clamp down harder the longer his orgasm goes on. When it fades, he turns back to soft kisses, seeking Kerry's mouth yet again. He's turned into his side, his husband's cock still in him; the kiss still smulders with passion, but it's not so much that it doesn't give them both a little breathing space. "Bedroom," V says, and picks Kerry right on up; it's just as well, since he's not sure after getting fucking railed like that guarantees he can walk all that well. No matter - he's not anticipating letting V get more than a couple feet away from him for the rest of the night. 

V drops him to the mattress - more plush than his own at home - and climbs back on top of him, kissing him deep enough to make Kerry's toes curl. He gathers Kerry's hands up and pins them above his head, making Kerry's musk - and V's - fill the air, laced as it is with the scent of sex. "I  _ will  _ give you the option of in your mouth or over your face." He licks Kerry's jaw, bites a pierced ear, then comes back to his mouth.

  
  


"Like I don't want to swallow every fucking bit," he says - so flips them, tugs at Kerry's hips until they're 69ing. Kerry pushes his ass back to V's mouth - waxed smooth, cause he's a gentleman like that - and fucking melts when V starts licking his own come out of his fucked out hole. Christ, he never knew how someone could have such a hard-line view of justice and be so fucking filthy all at once. Kerry moans, loosens his jaw and sucks as he was told. V's salty skin is a blessing, tasting himself there as well. His pubic hair, trimmed normally but currently longer than normal, traps up even more of his rich scent.

Kerry doesn't bother with fingers on his shaft - it's all his mouth, his left hand braced and digging into his thigh while his right cups and rolls his balls. It keeps V moaning and growling against his hole, licking as deep as he can go. He feels the spit dripping down his balls as V goes hard on him, fingers clamped into his hips - like Kerry is fucking going anywhere. He tries to keep it slow, not be greedy - but he isn't sure how much time they have before V is gone again. So he's gonna fucking suck his cock as sloppy-needy as he wants. 

  
  


"Shit, Ker, don't fucking  _ stop."  _ V clings to him, moaning, and yeah, alright, Kerry has this game figured out - until V shoves the dildo he had all but forgotten about into him and starts fucking him with it. The angle makes it hit his sweet spot over and over, but Kerry won't be thrown off; if he can shred and sing  _ Deathwatch  _ at the same time, he can do this. Just that V also manages to tweak a nipple at the same time, leaving Kerry with his orgasm rocketing out of him and a brain full of static all at once. V's stomach gets coated with it, copious, warm, until he slams his cock up into Kerry's mouth and makes him his all over again.

Kerry doesn't spill a fucking drop.

He pulls off of V's cock and turns back around to kiss him, tongue plunging into his mouth the second Kerry is close enough to be grabbed by the back of the neck. The dildo is still in him, along with a couple of V's fingers because, you know, both of them are feeling fucking greedy for it tonight. V breaks their kiss up, asks "think you can handle both me and your friend here?" Fuck, yeah he can - and whatever brain Kerry may have had left slides right out of his ear. He slides backwards, feels the flesh and blood cock of his husband nudge up against the bottom of the toy.  _ Fuck. _

"I haven't been dp'd in fuck,  _ years."  _ Kerry loves that feeling of fullness, but the mention of the past puts this jealous, mean look in V's eyes - and it means Kerry gets yanked down, double stuffed, the pain-pleasure of the sensation creating in a loud moan. "Fuck, V, I- shit, I can promise it wasn't nearly as good as this." V grunts, and Kerry braces a hand on his chest. The come from his second orgasm is still cooling on V's abs, and there's not a second of hesitation in making an effort to clean it up. Kerry sucks off his own fingers as he rides V, the double-tipped sensation of all that cock in him causing delirium, ecstasy,  _ rightness  _ to push through his veins.

V sits up, kisses Kerry fiercely - "too good to share what's partly mine?" He licks over his come-salty lips, fucks up into him, resets the pace that  _ he  _ wants - maybe that whole desire has been in place all this time, and V just managed to translate it into something so, so fucking good for the both of them. He sucks off Kerry's bottom lip, smiles when he notices Kerry jerking his cock. It's the first time he's gotten a hand on himself since V walked in the door, and at last, it makes the circuit complete. He's in the home stretch, riding V for all he's fucking worth. The neon lights of Seattle reflect in his eyes as they lock with Kerry's followed by the almighty clap of thunder that's been threatening to burst forth from the sky since sound check this afternoon. It’s the perfect end to this reunion - or a pretty fucking good intermission, either way. V comes first, his mouth a scream against Kerry’s - he’s there with him, and for just a moment, Kerry dies for pleasure, only to be brought back to earth by the tumble onto his back, body soaking wet with sweat and passion. V gathers him up in his arms, face buried in his neck again. “Ker, baby, just… fuck, I missed you so goddamn  _ much. _ ” 

Kerry wraps even more tightly around him and the hurt of absence finally gets to be too much, and they kiss, over and over, tears shedding themselves, even amidst the mess they’ve made of themselves and the bed. Both V and the dildo have slipped out of him, but it’s not the feeling of fullness he wants, not now - just V, just his arms around him. “Loneliest fucking place in the world, V - ‘s this. After a show, when it’s just me.” He’s told him before, and every time he says it, they have this talk, he hopes like hell that it means V stays longer. He knows, god, he  _ knows  _ that V’s job, it doesn’t guarantee that sort of stability. But he can have this, just for a while. And it’s not like he forgets the nights like these easily.

“I know, Kerry.” V wipes his eyes and gives Kerry a smile, runs his fingers through his hair. Treats him like precious cargo  _ after  _ sex, and you know what? Kerry’s into it. Intimacy. He likes the  _ intimacy  _ that V finds with him. “I’ll be right back - bathroom through there?”

“There’s two, actually.” Kerry gets up with him, V goes to the right, he goes to the left; the way he needs to clean up, he’d rather do in private. He doesn’t shower, not quite ready to wash V’s scent off of him - and he’s fucking tired. Really, really tired. Wants to sleep for three days, right next to V. When he comes back out, V is already in the bed waiting for him, taking his hand as he approaches and pulls him right into another kiss. “You still gonna be here when I wake up?”

“Promise - go to sleep, Ker. I’m right behind you.” Kerry yawns,  _ sated,  _ and V’s right, he  _ is  _ right there.

All night long.

***

Even with the exhaustion that had swept into his bones after the concert and fucking half the night, Kerry’s still up with the sun. With all the late fucking nights he pulls as a rock star, somehow, his body still wants him up this early. Big believer in naps to make up for it, but his therapist recommended it, to see the start of a new day. Of course, the skyscrapers don’t let  _ all  _ of the sun in, but it’s enough to see V next to him, still out like a light, but  _ there,  _ real, solid, at peace. Kerry kisses him on the forehead and lets him sleep, before going, naked, to the bathroom and splashing water on his face to wake himself up. He comes back out and goes to the living area to unroll his yoga mat, again recommended by his therapist. V fucked him six ways to Sunday last night, and there’s still plenty to stretch out. He goes through his whole routine, orders breakfast, and then goes back to awaken V - he wants as much time as he can get with him.

V isn’t in bed anymore - but the sound of the shower running solves that mystery really damn quick, and that’s where Kerry finds him, in the bathroom he used last night. V’s there under the water, his hair damp and long over his forehead, hiding half his face. Leaning up against the tiled wall, he’s stroking his cock, beckoning Kerry forward. Kerry licks his lips, the hunger for  _ more  _ flooding back. He steps in and V draws their bodies together, blasting away the cobwebs of lingering sleep with a kiss patented to make Kerry’s knees tremble. “How’s your ass feel, Ker?”

“Good enough, if it gets me this.” He reaches down and strokes V’s cock for him, swipes his thumb over his precome-slicked slit. “Don’t have a concert today, so if you want to be rough again…” It’ll still hurt  _ tomorrow  _ morning, but hey, it’s the second to last show. He’ll be fine. V chuckles, re-deepens the kiss, and grabs the lube from the shelf. Always fucking prepared.

“Nah. Gonna take my time with you.” He spins Kerry around so that they’re both under the water - the loofah is already soaped, and V whispers  _ wash up, be a good boy -  _ like Kerry’s got the necessary brain cells to do so while V fingers his ass back open. He does it anyway, deep, thorough, nothing like the passion-rough man that came to him last night. Both sides are still genuine, and when V finally does slide his cock home, Kerry is fucking ready to suspend this moment. It’s slow, sensual, somewhere  _ lovemaking -  _ it’s too good to be something so, fuck, mundane? All the words and poetry that he can make into music, and here he is rendered speechless by the slow fuck of his husband’s cock in and out of him.

Kerry still comes like a firehose in the grip of V’s hand, and just in the last, what nine hours he’s had more mindblowing orgasms than his brain is capable of remembering. V comes in him again, and if it weren’t for Kerry’s thighs finally saying  _ hey fucker, you need to sit the hell down  _ he would ask for more. That and he can smell food, and he’s sure that V didn’t stop to eat before he showed up at his door last night. They turn the shower off, drying off between kisses, and wrapped in towels, they make their way out to the breakfast cart. Two full plates of eggs, bacon, toast, and coffee so strong that Kerry could pour it in the gas tank of V’s Kawasaki and it’d go for a hundred miles. They dig in, ravenous - even though Kerry ends up in V’s lap and coerces him into being fed. V grumbles, but Kerry sees the love in his eyes all the same.

“You know,” Kerry says, after, relaxing against V’s side, “I uh, have something I wanted to show you. Been working on it for a couple weeks, after our phone call outside Moscow.” He retrieves his Gibson from the end of the couch and sits up, the axe on his knee, strumming a few blue-tinged notes. “Needed a new ballad, cause, you know, some of the greatest of all time are slow jams. Not sure if I want this one to be on the next album or not.”  _ Neon Dream  _ isn’t on paper anywhere yet, and there’s room for expansion, but he’s got enough to sing for his husband. 

His fingers pick out the latest version of the notes he’s satisfied with, and he sings, alternately watching V and his hands, pouring out this tale of love under a flickering sign - it never goes out, just dims, and then one day it’s back in full, because Kerry’s had enough of sad songs to last him a lifetime. Of course it’s about him and V,  _ of course -  _ V knows that, too. By the Kerry finishes, the tears are back, and V’s wiping his own cheeks, back to hugging Kerry around his neck. “So uh… what do you think?” Like it needs to be asked - but V won’t give him a bullshit answer, even if he  _ is  _ biased.

V has to take another minute, but he looks Kerry in the eye, holding his chin between his fingers. “You’re a bastard, a rotten one, Kerry. Not because of the song, just…” He takes a breath, back to running his fingers through Kerry’s still damp hair. “It’s perfect, to me it is but… fuck.” He licks his lips, and it hits Kerry that he’s got something to say. Something big. Kerry sets aside the guitar and takes V’s hands, waiting for him. He’s got all the time in the world. “I don’t suppose I can take you up on that month in Maui, can I?”

A month. 

Wait. How - V  _ never  _ gets that much time, ever. “V, what are you…”

“I’ve been thinking, a lot, about my future. Being completely, ridiculously in love, it makes it easier, harder, depending on the situation.” V kisses him again, tender as a warm night wind. “My contract got bought out, Ker. I resigned the day before yesterday - Rogue’s taking the reins. I’m out, baby, cause I’m sick and fucking tired waking up halfway around the planet from you in some place that I won’t remember the name of. Burned out, homesick, take your pick - but I’m done. Got a job with CBI lined up, and they said any time I want to start I can. Plan to stay. Best part of it is I don’t have to be  _ anywhere  _ for it. But all I could think, Ker, the whole time it was being laid out, was just about bein’ home to sleep next to you every night. Start working on a fucking future, for real. Shit’s fucked all to hell when the total number of days you’ve spent together don’t fill half a calendar.” V rubs his knuckles along his jaw, not in any hurry for an answer. “Doesn’t even have to be Maui, just beside the pool’s fine with me. LA’s gorgeous this time of year.”

The buzzing in Kerry’s skull comes back, and he laughs, loudly, uncontrollably, his face buried in V’s neck, his shoulder, arms tight around his body. V holds him, laughs with him - this man can’t stop fucking surprising him, no matter what. But it’s  _ good  _ this time, really fucking good. “Vince, come on… I don’t know what to say.” Wish fulfillment, most of the time? Huge letdown. But not this, not  _ ever  _ V. “You’re being real with me, and… fuck, V, okay.  _ Okay. _ ” He kisses him again, and Kerry swears that it tastes fucking sweeter than ever. Maybe it does, could be the syrup from breakfast. He’s warm down to his toes, and kissing V like this breaks his heart in a much better way then he can put words to. “Pretty sure I’m okay with a month by the pool, too.”

“So long as you don’t hire some twink to rub oil on your back,” V teases. “Or, so long as it’s  _ both  _ of us he’s doing it to…” He winks, and Kerry tackles him backwards. “Fucker, get  _ off. _ ”

“Don’t you know that threesomes haven’t been my thing for a while now?” Kerry kisses him, showers them down on V’s mouth. “You know, I’m just going to get even greedier for you now, knowing you’re free for me to defile any time I want.”

“Feel like we’ve got a lot of degradation to catch up on.” V goes for his towel and slips his hand under the loose knot, feeling Kerry’s rapidly hardening cock. “Course, sweet pillow talk is good too. Or filthy.” He finds Kerry’s balls and tugs, rolls, breaking right the fuck past his already downed defenses. “Have a lot of time to think, when I’m on my own, and every single one of those thoughts means something to do with you and me being naked at the same time.” He strokes Kerry’s dick and gets him wet in no time, each touch better than the last. “Going legit, Kerry - settling down.”

“As we’re gonna get, anyway.” Hell, maybe on the next tour, he can be there for the whole damn thing, and to hell with anyone that tries to stay in the way with that. “Don’t stop, V,  _ please. _ ” Loving me. Touching me. Being there for me. He doesn’t have to say a word of it, V just  _ knows. _

“Never, Kerry,  _ never. _ ”

***

Kerry puts  _ Neon Dream  _ next to last on the final stop, and normally, his wedding band is around his neck too - not tonight. It’s on his left hand, right where everyone can fucking see it. V included, backstage, watching Kerry’s every move. It’s a wild, loud show up to this moment, and as he sings, he can feel V’s eyes on him. He knows what comes after this, wants it, to be right back in V’s arms - but in a series of moments he wants to stretch, this one is pretty high up there on the list, singing about the man he loves down to his fucking soles. 

With the way V kisses him after the final curtain call, Kerry’s pretty damn sure that V doesn’t want it to be over either.

Just another reason to love him as long as he lives.

**Author's Note:**

> Did I lift a line from Parks and Rec? Yes I did. Ben and Leslie are the fucking cutest and so are these two. I will make my references wherever I can.


End file.
